


The Drawn Veil

by siyrean



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, warnings would be spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyrean/pseuds/siyrean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Erik had a little less self control around our virtuous Christine and her lovely dressing gown?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drawn Veil

I watched as her chest rose and fell, her lips slightly parted, her eyes glazed over. She was completely lost to the swoon my voice created over her. In this state she was mine. In this state I could make love to her with my music as I had so often done with my eyes. But this time there was no glass to separate us. I had finally brought her to my home, my sanctuary, as I had so often dreamed before. Everything was perfect, I sang and she came. And as I continued to let my voice enrapture her soul, she fell ever farther into my power, lost in bliss.

I moved slowly behind her and pulled those magnificent brown locks back from her neck; savoring every moment the silky threads touch my skeletal hands. I sang softly in her ear, helping to draw her closer to me, and giving me the courage to dare the lightest touch. My hand hesitantly fell across her collar bone, bringing forth the most exquisite sigh from her lips. Her skin was like silk and I couldn't help but draw my hand up and run it softly across her throat and over her shoulder at the edge of her dressing gown.

By the gods in heaven or hell, she leaned mercilessly back into me, her form curving perfectly to match my own and her head falling back to rest against my shoulder. My hands instinctively moved to her hips as I continued to sing. Her beauty was too much as I looked down upon her that I had to close my eyes against the sight her perfect profile. But as I did, the world that held my mind to reality faded and all I knew was Christine, there, in my arms.

My arms wrapped possessively around her, moving wondrously across the material of corset and up her ribs. She gasped as my hand cupped her breast and my eyes fluttered open. Her eyes were closed with the most sublime expression cast over her features though her breathing had picked up. My song had become wordless thought its melody still cascaded over the girl, suspending all thought.

With a fear I hadn't felt since childhood, I slowly lowered my head and placed a single kiss against the nape of her neck. She did not flinch. Again I kissed her, making sure to hum my song with each passing breath. This time she sighed and I felt as though my body had melted and I had transubstantiated to some new heavenly state of existence. I kissed her again; dear lord I couldn't stop kissing her! This time upon her face, my hand gently coaxing her to turn to me.

Her eyes were still closed but her head was tilted up towards me with her crimson lips in the most beautiful pout. Did I dare? I had already taken so many liberties; I was lucky to ever forgive myself…

The moment my lips touched hers, I was undone. I knew there was no turning back and that I would gladly accept all hell for this one moment of bliss. Was she aware of what was happening, I couldn't say, but she gasped, and sighed, and even moaned beneath my touch. She did not struggle, or cry out against me, but was completely passive, had she done so, I would have likely struck myself down in shame. Christine was a goddess and deserved to be treated no less than one. I would treasure her and keep her safe from the world. They did not deserve her. We would sing together and let music fill our time till the sun went down and then I would hold her close to me, she would be mine.

As the morning came, I knew I could not be found in her bed. She would have questions to ask and I would reluctantly have to answer them, but the least I could do was see that she was comfortable and had everything she could possibly need. After taking a final look at her sleeping angelic form, I set out to do some shopping before she awoke, though for safety, I locked her room door. She did not yet know her way around my home and I did not wish the risk of what could happen while I was out.

I had taken far longer than expected on my little expedition but while I was out I couldn't help but buy every item that caught my eye, every trinket I thought Christine would enjoy. The girl was a child to be spoiled and if it would bring a smile to her face, it would be hers.

I knocked three times on her door before entering. My whole body shook with trepidation as I entered, unsure what to expect her reaction to be. She was likely to be furious for my cheat, perhaps scared of my ability to manipulate her. The thought sent a shiver down my spine; she had no reason to trust me or my intensions with her.

But when I entered, there was nothing. No barrage of yelled accusations, no Christine. Puzzled, I remembered the washroom and a wave of relief overtook me as I walked over to the door. I called in, but there was no answer, though the light was clearly on. I warned I was about to enter and after no answer I did just that.

My eyes were fist drawn to the sink and the splashes of thick crimson blood, still making it way down the drain, then to my angels fallen, crumpled form, lain out across the floor upon another glistening red pool. And finally to the fatal pair of scissors resting just off to the side, the damning evidence smeared coarsely over their metal surface.

She had never even seen my face.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this back in 2005. There's a scene in the original book that's cut from some translations, which includes a bit about her contemplating suicide if her capture proves less than gentlemanly.


End file.
